


Hold Each Other.

by whatstheproblembaby



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 16:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20585219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: None of them like winter. Katherine gets sad. Jack gets anxious. Davey gets irritable.





	Hold Each Other.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Hold Each Other" by A Great Big World, which inspired this fic.

None of them like winter, though their reasons and reactions differ. Katherine gets sad. Jack gets anxious. Davey gets irritable.

Or, well, Katherine doesn’t _just_ get sad anymore. Now that she’s met her boys, she also feels intensely guilty for getting sad during the holidays. What does she have to be upset about when she grew up with so much more than they did?

She does her best to push through the sadness, or at least disguise it. She’s always had a predilection for cozy cardigans and soft scarves, so it’s no surprise that she layers up every morning. Sure, maybe she’s pulling out more deep blues and grays than she usually wears, but she just hasn’t done laundry in a while - sue her. And yes, she’s turned her semi-regular Starbucks stops into a daily occurrence, but gingerbread latte season only lasts so long!

Part of her realizes these are weak excuses. The larger part of her believes she missed out on a career on the stage. Maybe Medda needs new chorus members?

Even Katherine’s fledgling Tony dreams can’t hide the fact that she just burst into tears when she realized that the carolers on the corner of their block are harmonizing sweetly to “Silent Night,” though.

“Kath?” Davey asks, pulling them to a stop on the sidewalk. He rubs one hand down her back soothingly.

“I’m fine,” Kath chokes out, earning twin incredulous looks from Jack and Davey.

“Care to rephrase?” Jack says, shifting his gaze from her to the carolers like he’s trying to figure out which one of them he needs to fight for making her cry.

“It’s not the carolers’ fault, Jack,” she says. She sniffles one last time before inhaling deeply and straightening her spine, forcing herself to regain some composure. “I’ll explain when we’re home.”

_And then you’ll think I’m a spoiled brat,_ she concludes to herself.

Davey leaves his hand on Kath’s back for the rest of the walk, while Jack shifts the shopping bags with Race’s and Spot’s presents to his other side so he can have one hand free to hold hers. She can’t really feel the physical warmth of their grips, given that they both have gloves on, but the emotional warmth loosens a knot in her chest all the same.

“Okay, talk,” Jack says the second their apartment door closes behind them, ever impatient.

“Gonna let me get my shoes off first?” Kath teases, though some of her usual bite isn’t there. “I’ve been carrying this emotional baggage for twenty-five years, you can wait two more minutes for me to get comfortable before I share it.”

“I don’t know if I should find it reassuring or concerning that you’re cracking a joke about this,” Davey says, shucking his own coat and shoes.

Once the three of them have gotten their outdoor clothing off and tossed their bags on the kitchen table, Katherine leads them to the living room, where she takes her usual seat snuggled against the arm of the couch, near the window. Jack sits at the far end of the sofa, while Davey takes the armchair kitty-corner from her.

“I’m not really sure how to begin,” she says, tucking her feet underneath her. “I feel so stupid even talking about it, because it’s basically a Hallmark protagonist’s backstory.”

“You have a secret dream of opening an inn in Snowflake, Vermont but your douchey, corporate boyfriends will judge you for giving up your high-powered career as a journalist?” Jack says, laughing.

“No, she secretly hates Christmas but the cute small-town boys she meets when her car breaks down in Pine Tree, Oregon will help change her mind through the power of a cookie-decorating competition,” Davey counters.

“I knew you two were paying attention when I put those movies on!” Katherine says, letting out a short giggle. “Neither of you are quite right, though. I, um. I guess I just never feel worse about my family than I do at the holidays?”

Jack and Davey’s quiet laughter peters out entirely as Katherine keeps going.

“I mean, you’ve met my parents. Neither Joe nor Kate is the picture of loving warmth on a regular day, but it almost feels like it gets worse at Christmas. Dad barely remembers he’s Jewish the rest of the year, but suddenly December rolls around and it’s ‘We never celebrate Hanukkah!’ or ‘That shit-for-brains maid you hired dented the menorah that’s been in my family for decades!’ Meanwhile, Mother drinks herself into a stupor at every holiday party we’re invited to - and there’s basically one every evening - and then she has her personal shopper buy all of our Christmas presents, which would be fine if her personal shopper didn’t assume we were all walking gender stereotypes. Like when I was a freshman at Columbia, she got me a wall hanging that said ‘Working on my MRS degree!’ in sparkly pink cursive. Who says that?”

“Somewhere in Lower Manhattan, Mom and Sarah’s hair just stood on end because of that sentence,” Davey says, but Katherine barely hears him. She’s worked up a good head of steam, and these feelings have been festering more than she previously knew.

“And then it seems like everyone else in the world is part of a functional family at this time of year! My friends from high school always talked about how their parents took all of winter break off of work so they could go skiing or visit their grandparents and just spend time together, and half of those parents haven’t slept in the same bedroom since the early nineties, if ever! I try to watch some TV or a movie to escape the real world, but I either see treacly holiday specials about the power of love or commercials featuring picture-perfect families in matching pajama sets eating candy canes and opening presents one at a time to really savor the moment! Do you know the last time my family and I all opened presents together?”

Jack opens his mouth, but Katherine doesn’t let him finish.

“I was seven. I had just gotten the American Girl doll I had been begging for since August, and then my older brothers took her and threw her down the laundry chute. My father punished me for crying about it, because I was ‘too goddamn loud’ and he couldn’t concentrate on his work. When I was eight, I opened all my presents alone in my room.”

The boys stare at Katherine, dumbfounded, as she wipes tears off her cheeks. Then they practically blur into motion.

Jack scoots down the couch and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, while Davey leaps from his armchair to sit so Katherine is half in his lap on the couch, his arms circling her hips and pressing against Jack’s torso. It’s somehow cleanly coordinated enough that she’s not ripped in half, but she does whack her head against Jack’s shoulder as he grabs her.

“Ow!”

“Sorry,” Jack says, adjusting so his arm is also around Davey. “Didn’t know Dave was also gonna go for the hug just now.”

“What the hell else did you expect me to do, Jack?” Davey asks. “Just let our girlfriend sit there and cry?”

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Jack says, making Katherine laugh once, softly.

“You guys really don’t have to do this,” she says, though she makes no moves to get up. “It’s silly, being sad that my rich parents don’t act exactly how I want them to at Christmas when so many children would kill to even have a home to celebrate in.”

“Jesus Christ, Kath,” Jack says vehemently. “That’s not exactly a fair way to put it.”

“Seriously,” Davey agrees. “You just described listening to your father yell, having to deal with your alcoholic mother, and being bullied by your siblings, which led to _more_ yelling, this time at you personally. That’s not exactly whining that you didn’t get a pony.”

“And before you say it,” Jack continues, “Yes, I didn’t have a real home for some Christmases when I was a kid, and yes, that sucked. But that doesn’t mean your Christmases weren’t hard in a different way. My struggles don’t make yours any less real, Ace.”

Kath feels more tears threatening to fall, but she manages to hold them in. “You don’t think I’m shallow?”

“Never,” Davey says, Jack nodding along beside him.

“So...you’ll get matching Christmas pajamas with me? Or matching Hanukkah pajamas, Davey?” she asks, only partially kidding.

“We’re taking our fucking holiday card photos next year in the matching jammies,” Jack says before planting a kiss on Katherine’s temple.

“I’ve seen some truly obnoxious onesies with multicolored glittery snowflakes,” Davey muses, pulling Kath fully into his lap. Jack grabs her feet so they lay across his legs. “I can add a yarmulke, Jackie can have a Santa hat. It’ll be great.”

“Wait, what do I get?” Katherine asks.

“Antlers,” Jack decides. “With jingle bells.”

“Perfect.”

“Just like you,” Jack says, rubbing her legs. “Now, grab the remote, Davey. These Hallmark movies ain’t gonna watch themselves.”

“God, I hope the one with the prince who visits America for the holidays and ends up falling in love with the shy Midwestern kindergarten teacher is on,” Kath says, crossing her fingers.

“Can we drink every time his accent changes?” Davey asks, fishing the remote out of the couch cushions.

“That’s the only reason I want it to be on,” Katherine replies.

Luckily enough, it is. They feel a little rough in the morning, but Kath can’t help but think it was worth it.

__________________________________

Katherine gets sad. Jack gets anxious. Davey gets irritable.

Davey and Kath know that Jack is adopted. He has told them all about bouncing from foster home to foster home until he was fourteen, when Miss Medda Larkin took him in and he met Crutchie, Smalls, and Race, her other adopted kids. Ever since then, he has had a roof over his head, warm food in his belly, and an environment full of love and support, especially after Medda married her long-time lover, Teddy.

What Jack’s partners don’t know is just how bad it got some winters before he found his permanent home.

Once the weather turns cold, his dreams center on the big red door shutting him out. The deadbolt snaps as loud as a gunshot, and he is shivering in his sweatshirt and athletic shorts, his normally roasting twelve-year-old body unable to compete with suburban New York in the winter. His teeth chatter percussively, and just as he’s about to pass out from hypothermia, the scene changes.

Now he’s in a big, drafty room that’s only one step removed from being a two-car garage. A space heater churns away, but only until ten, when Fred and Mavis call lights out and kill the power. He burrows into the tiniest ball possible, but his blanket is thin with age, and it only keeps him warm for as long as he can produce body heat. He’s one of the lucky kids, though - the weakest ones had their blankets stolen by the bullies ages ago, but he’s nine now, and he’s scrappy.

One last flashback. He is four, and he can’t find his mom. She said they were going to play hide and seek in the park, but he’s been seeking _forever_, and he can’t find her. His windbreaker isn’t thick enough to keep out the January wind, but it’s all Mama could afford. She told him to just run fast and he’d stay warm. He does his best to listen, but by the time the police officer finds him, his lips are purple with cold.

In the morning, he wakes up and immediately checks their bedroom window to be sure it’s shut tightly and locked. When Katherine tries to go to work without a scarf on, he practically has a breakdown.

“It’s two blocks to the subway, then I’m indoors until the three block walk to the _Sun_,” she says, laughing. “I should be fine, Jack.”

“You never know when the weather could turn,” Jack says, grabbing her ballet pink scarf off the coat rack and shoving it into her hands.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Kath accedes, taking the scarf and looping it around her neck. “Just because it’s not snowing now doesn’t mean it won’t be by the time I leave work. Thanks for looking out for me, Cowboy.”

Jack reaches out and tucks her scarf more snugly into her coat before kissing her goodbye. His heart rate goes down a little, but then Davey walks out in an unzipped parka and no gloves.

“Dave!”

Davey swats his hands away. “I was getting there, Jack, hold your horses. I don’t want to get all sweaty underneath my jacket!”

He zips his jacket, and Jack lets out a quiet sigh.

“And your gloves?”

“It’s forty degrees out, who needs gloves in this weather?”

“It’s supposed to get colder as the day goes on, Davey. Take your fuckin’ gloves!”

“Whoa,” Davey says, taking a single step back. His eyebrows reach to his hairline. “A little aggressive, but okay, it’s a good idea. Are they - oh.”

As Davey was talking, Jack was snagging his gloves from their peg and waving them in his general direction. He holds one open for Davey to put on, then the other.

“Sorry, that was a little forceful,” Jack says afterward. “I just want you to stay safe and warm.”

“One of the many reasons you make an excellent boyfriend,” Davey says with a smile. “See you tonight?”

“Where else would I be?”

They share a quick, sweet kiss, and then Jack is alone in the apartment. Once he’s sure Davey won’t stumble back in because he forgot his coffee or his keys or his shoes (as has happened more than once in the past), he tries to have a stern talking-to with himself.

“Your partners are full-grown, responsible adults, Jack. They don’t need you mothering them about scarves and gloves in the winter, even if they don’t always wear them when they go out. Trust that they know what the weather will be like.”

Somehow, he doesn’t think he’s going to listen to himself.

He at least manages not to swear when he’s encouraging Davey and Katherine to bundle up before their morning commutes during the rest of the week, and he convinces himself he only needs one pair of back-up gloves in his messenger bag, which is progress from the three pairs he carried last winter. Jack still obsessively checks the windows every time he passes one, though, and whenever he wakes up in the night, he can’t calm down enough to sleep again until he hears the heat click on.

“Jack. Babe. Can we talk?” Katherine asks him a week later, patting the seat between her and Davey on the couch.

“Is this, like, a ‘pack your things’ can we talk, or…?” Jack teases as he sits down.

“Jackie, you know we’d just leave your things bagged up in the hallway if we were kicking you out,” Davey says, eyes sparkling. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“If we could focus, please?” Kath says, though Jack can tell she’s fighting a smirk. “Davey and I have noticed you’re acting a little strange recently, and we just have some questions, that’s all.”

“Strange how?” Jack asks, though he’s sure he already knows. “Like secretive? Because I love you two, you know that, but I’m not telling you what your presents are.”

“Stop it,” Davey says, swatting Jack’s arm gently. “You know that’s not what we mean.”

“I do,” Jack says. His shoulders slump forward slightly as he exhales. “And I’m sorry, first of all. I know I’ve been a little...overbearing, shall we say?”

“Oh, we shall,” Katherine says. “But it’s okay, Cowboy.”

“We know you’re acting out of concern for us,” Davey says with a nod. “We’re just not sure why you’re this concerned.”

Jack takes a moment to collect his thoughts. “Winter has never been my favorite season. Beyond some of the terrible Christmases I had as a kid - which still do not mean you can’t feel upset about your own garbage holidays, Ace! - the cold has, in fact, always bothered me anyway.”

“I hate you. Continue,” Davey says, deadpan, as Kath lets out a snort.

“The first time I experienced hypothermia, I was four, and for a kicker, that’s when I learned that my mom left me in the park and didn’t plan on coming back,” Jack says. His partners instantly go silent. “Then I bounced from home to home, usually without proper clothing. If I was lucky enough to get a coat that fit, either the parents would take it for their biological kid, or a bigger kid at the home would just steal it from me. When I was nine, the Hoolihans made us sleep in a converted garage that couldn’t have been fully insulated, and they turned the electricity off at ten because they didn’t trust us, which killed the space heater. I could see my breath in there.”

“Jack,” Kath says softly, but Jack just plows on.

“Then, when I was twelve, Mrs. Porter kicked me out of the house for waking her up from her nap. I was only wearing a hoodie and basketball shorts. She let me throw shoes on, at least, but I still lost feeling in my toes before long. I’m amazed I didn’t need a doctor after that. The human body sure is a fascinating thing, huh?”

It is quiet in their living room for a while after Jack finishes speaking.

“Kath-” Davey begins.

“Turn the heat up, Davey,” Kath interrupts as she rises. “I’ll get the extra quilt from the linen closet.”

“You read my mind,” Davey says, pushing himself up as well. “And our slippers?”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

Jack watches silently as his partners scurry about the apartment, adjusting the thermostat and pulling out every cozy item of clothing or bedding they can find.

“Is this good?” Katherine asks as she sits back down. She’s got her fleecy Columbia hoodie, Davey’s sweatpants, and thick Fair Isle-print socks on, and she’s brought Jack Davey’s zip-up NYU sweatshirt and his own slippers. Davey sinks down next to them in Jack’s RISD pullover and Kath’s other pair of fuzzy socks, throwing the quilt she left on the coffee table over all of their legs once Jack has geared up.

“To give me heatstroke? Absolutely,” Jack gripes goodnaturedly.

“Shut up,” Davey says, pulling Jack’s head onto his shoulder. “You know that if I even think I see a goosebump on you in the future, I’m wrapping you in the nearest blanket ASAP?”

“And I thought I was overbearing,” Jack says. “To be fair, I definitely have been, but...I couldn’t stand the thought that you guys would be cold like I was and I had done _nothing_ to stop it.”

“Jack, I’m amazed you’re even willing to live in New York now,” Kath says, snuggling her own head on Jack’s other shoulder. “You could live somewhere where it never snows, but you’ve stayed here winter after winter. That shows incredible bravery.”

“Or incredible stupidity,” Jack mumbles.

Katherine adjusts so she can whack him in the chest. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m always right.”

“Okay, alright!” Jack says, laughing.

“Would you two quit squirming?” Davey asks. “I’m trying to enjoy some quality time with my partners here.”

“Well, if you insist,” Jack says, and he settles in for a long, warm winter’s nap. 

__________________________________

Katherine gets sad. Jack gets anxious. Davey gets irritable.

In the summer, Davey can eat like a horse. Summer has always meant fresh veggies from Mom’s rooftop garden and more job opportunities for Dad doing road repair and building construction, meaning more money for meat and bread and other filling foods.

Winter, on the other hand, means money gets tighter and the stock of pickled vegetables in the pantry has to be carefully monitored. When he lived at home, Davey got used to claiming he was full long before his plate was clean so Les and Sarah could eat more. They needed it, with Les’s constant growth spurts and the dark circles that blossomed under Sarah’s eyes the second the weather turned. He’d give more to his mom and dad too if he could, but they refused to eat anything if one of the kids could have it instead.

He no longer lives with his family, but old habits are hard to break.

“Do you want that?” Kath asks, pointing to the last piece of pizza in the box on the coffee table.

“No, I’m full up,” he says, though he feels hollow inside with only one piece of pizza and a couple of breadsticks in his system.

“Great, then it’s mine,” she says, her eyes lighting up as she takes a healthy bite.

A rush of sick satisfaction washes over Davey. His girlfriend isn’t going hungry, and clearly his boyfriend isn’t either, the way he’s lolling on the floor with his hands over his stomach. They have enough.

He pushes himself up, gaining Jack’s attention.

“Will you get me a refill while you’re up?” He hands Davey his empty wine glass. “Thanks, love.”

Davey grabs his own empty glass and pads toward the kitchen. When he tries to open the wine bottle, though, he can’t uncork it on the first try.

“Damn it,” he mutters, twisting the cork back and forth. “Come on, you piece of sh- Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Red wine splatters on his shirt and the countertop when he finally wrenches the cork out of the bottle. As he’s cleaning up, Jack wanders in.

“You okay? We heard yelling.”

“Yeah, it’s just this fuckin’ bottle not behaving,” Davey says, dabbing at his shirt with a wet dishcloth. “And now this shirt is ruined.”

“Dave, there’s like two drops on it, it’ll be fine. You know Kath’s a stain removal wizard,” Jack says, refilling their glasses. “Take a breath.”

“You’re right,” Davey says before taking a sip. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

“No worries,” Jack replies, grabbing Davey’s hand and pulling him back to the living room. “Go change your shirt. Ace and I will find something to watch on Netflix.”

“If you put on _A Christmas Prince_...,” Davey warns, setting his glass down before turning toward the bedroom.

“Yes, we know, you hate happiness,” Kath says, flapping a hand at him dismissively. “We’ll find something all three of us like, promise!”

He calms down as the evening winds on, but unfortunately, his crankiness starts to grow again in the following days. It’s only because of little things, like his shoe coming untied twice before he leaves in the morning when he’s already running late, but it never seems to fully abate, and he has to keep himself from snapping at his partners over nothing.

Even his fairly lengthy patience runs out, though.

“For the love of God, Katherine, is it that hard to put the cap back on the toothpaste?” he explodes one evening as they’re all getting ready for date night.

Kath arches one eyebrow pointedly at him from the hallway. She stalks back into the bathroom, where Davey hastily steps aside so she can spit and drop her toothbrush back in the holder.

“I realize I’m terrible at that, David Jacobs, and I appreciate a friendly reminder to clean up after myself. If you think that tone was _friendly_, however, then I’m going to call your mother and tell her about your shit-awful manners. How do you think she’ll respond to that?”

Davey swallows hard. His annoyance is still there, but he knew his attitude was wrong the second the words came out of his mouth, and his shame at speaking so sharply to Kath is starting to outweigh everything else.

“I- I’m sorry, Kath,” he says, rubbing a hand through his hair as a wave of exhaustion hits him. “That was uncalled for.”

He lets out a sigh, and to his surprise, a tear comes streaking down his face as well. Katherine’s expression goes from pissed to concerned in a microsecond.

“Jack!” she calls, grabbing Davey by the arm and steering him forcefully into the bedroom. She shoves him to sit on their bed as Jack emerges from the closet, buttoning his vest. “Spill.”

“I’m hungry,” Davey says, so discombobulated by Kath’s maneuvering that he can’t form a more eloquent explanation.

“Yeah, so am I,” Jack says, giving Davey an unimpressed look. “That doesn’t mean I’m out here harassing Kath and crying about it. Not that you _can’t_ cry if you feel like it-”

“Okay, Jack, I got it,” Davey interjects. “I, too, have sat through Spot, Sarah, and Kath’s talks about toxic masculinity.”

“And I’m proud of you both for learning,” Katherine says. “But that’s not the point right now.”

She looks at Davey expectantly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I, uh. May have been lying when I’ve said I’m full recently?”

“How recently is recently?” Jack asks, mirroring Kath’s stance. It would be funny if Davey didn’t know his answer was going to set them off.

“About a week and a half? Maybe two weeks?” Davey says, wincing.

Jack and Kath hit the roof, as expected.

“A week and a-” Jack starts, only to be interrupted by Katherine.

“Davey! Why in the world would you do that?”

“Food is hard to come by in the Jacobs house in the winter!” he says, looking down and fisting their quilt in his hands. “Dad can’t work as much, and Mom can only grow and can so many vegetables with her little plot in the rooftop garden. Les used to go to bed crying from hunger, and Sarah would get so pale...I had to do what I could.”

Just as quickly as they got incensed, Jack and Kath go quiet. They both move to sit next to Davey on the bed, placing their hands over his.

“If anybody ever tries to say you aren’t devoted to your family, Dave, I will not be held responsible for my actions,’ Jack says, rubbing his thumb over Davey’s knuckles.

“Are things better now, Davey? I don’t want to force help on your family, but if they’re still struggling…,” Kath trails off.

“It’s better now. It’s probably always going to be tight, but with only Les at home now, food doesn’t have to be stretched quite as much. I still don’t take more than one helping whenever I’m home for Shabbat, though. I’d rather they have leftovers.”

“Let me know if that changes,” Kath says simply. “You know your family’s needs better than I do. What you _are_ going to accept, though, is that I’m paying for dinner tonight.”

“Kath-”

“And by ‘I,’ I mean my father, who cannot cut me off if he doesn’t want the society pages buzzing that he has disowned his youngest daughter for daring to follow in his journalistic footsteps. Please let me use his credit card to buy us an obscene amount of junk food. Just think of what it will do to his blood pressure.”

Katherine makes an over-the-top pouting face that somehow manages to be adorable. Maybe it’s just Davey’s love for her.

“Fine. Fine! You win. You’re a dangerous woman, sweetheart. You know that?”

“Know that? She thrives on it,” Jack says with a snort.

“A lady’s got to use everything available to her to get ahead in this world,” Kath says, tossing her hair. “Now, are we going? Davey might be the hungriest person here, but I’m ready to eat, too.”

Jack stands up, pulling Davey to his feet, who pulls Katherine upright too. She snuggles under his left arm as they head toward the door, pulling away only to get her coat and shoes on.

“What are you in the mood for, hon?” she asks once they’ve gotten resituated.

“Honestly, I could go for enough pasta to fill a bathtub.”

“Done.”

They order enough pasta to fill the fridge and part of the freezer with leftovers. The only reason they stop is because Jack also begs for them to get ice cream, and they need room to store that, too. Davey drifts off to sleep that night with a full stomach and a fuller heart, happy to snuggle between Jack, who demanded to be little spoon, and Kath, who loves to jetpack.

He may have needed the physical food, but the sandwich they’re making in bed is his favorite thing of all.

**Author's Note:**

> It's my birthday! If you didn't get me a present, I'll accept kudos and comments. ;)


End file.
